


Cursed

by Starofwinter



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: But kind of, Gen, Gore, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Really Character Death, Prophetic Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 16:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: What a fucking curse, knowing how your brothers are going to die.





	Cursed

What a fucking curse, knowing how your brothers are going to die.

He doesn’t remember how it started, only remembers waking up his batchmates screaming from a nightmare, and the horror hasn’t stopped since.  Hollow had tried to calm him down, but all he’d seen was a scorched line across his brother’s throat, what he’d later learn was a lightsaber mark when he fell to Ventress’ hands.  Ockham with a bloody wound soaking through his off-duty tunic, dripping down to the floor - he’d be the first of them to die, from shrapnel wounds on Geonosis.  Storm would follow him at their next battle, and he’s almost relieved not to see the horrifying burns scorching his body from a Seppie grenade anymore.

He wants to be numb to it, and he almost is, but every day there’s something new.  Sometimes it changes, a brother with a blaster mark on his forehead shows up the next day with a slash running from his shoulder to hip, or someone without a mark tells him they’ve been reassigned, and now he can see blood soaking their blacks, leaving footprints in a trail down the hall.  Someone is assigned to the 104th, and he sees them frozen, with blackened veins and haunting bloody eyes. 

Some of them, he tries to help.  Ones with lines running down their wrists, or a blaster mark at their temples - he tries to offer a listening ear, a few warm words, and sometimes it helps, sometimes they change and he knows they’ll still die, but at least not by their own hands.  It rarely changes.  He doesn’t blame them.  They’re all going to die anyway.

What he doesn’t understand is how every Jedi general he’s ever met will die too.  Maybe the Jedi aren’t as infallible as they were always led to believe, if they’ll all die in this war too.

He doesn’t tell anyone, and he knows the others worry about him, worry that he’s a defect, a loner, but he can’t bring himself to make conversation when he can see how everyone around him will die, violent and bloody.  He can’t get to know them, can’t know their names, he  _ can’t let himself care _ or it will kill him.  He laughs at the irony of that thought, bitter and ugly.  

The only person whose death he  _ doesn’t _ see is his own. 


End file.
